Rise and Shine
by Fagocytosis
Summary: It could be said without a single doubt that Pitch Black was not a morning person. He would sleep late into the afternoon if you let him, tossing and turning and growling at the light that streamed in from his window as if it had personally offended him. It didn't exactly help that Jack was just about as morning-friendly as one could get.


**Author's note: part 1 of a series I'm working on over on AO3, but can also be read on its own. A glimpse into the domestic life of Pitch and Jack. Human AU. Enjoy! uwu**

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It could be said without a single doubt that Pitch Black was not a morning person. He would sleep late into the afternoon if you let him, tossing and turning and growling at the light that streamed in from his window as if it had personally offended him. There were many times when Jack would peer in to see him completely buried underneath far too many layers of blankets, pillows thrown over his head. On weekends he would lie in bed for a few hours before moving, and even then he had an ever-present scowl on his face.

Unfortunately, today was a Monday, and while Jack was enjoying a much-needed day off, Pitch was not so lucky with his work schedule. It didn't help that his partner was just about as morning-friendly as one could get. Shortly after 6:30, Jack nudged the door open with his foot, two mugs of steaming coffee in his hands. "Rise and shine, sleepy head."

Pitch groaned in response, curling deeper into his cocoon of blankets and pillows until the only thing you could make of him was a small tuft of hair sticking out from the mass of sheets. Jack rolled his eyes and set the mugs on the nearest hard surface before sitting on the edge of the mattress, gently running his fingers through the tangled black locks and readily ignored the obvious grumbles of protest. He learned very early on that waking Pitch tended to result in a few minor injuries if one wasn't careful. It was eerily similar to trying to coax a scared animal out of its hiding place.

Jack lifted the sheets just enough to wiggle in next to Pitch, careful not to touch the man just yet and risk getting scratched (seriously, it was kind of scary how often he reminded Jack of a grumpy house cat). He waited until Pitch shifted, meeting his eyes with a glare, pillow still situated partially over his head to block out the light. The bags under his eyes were painfully obvious compared to his pale skin, and Jack worked to hold back a worried sigh.

"So, what's the damage?"

"Two hours." Pitch groaned, yanking the blankets further over his head. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven." Jack tugged the blankets back down, a smile spreading across his lips when Pitch growled at him. "Hey, you've got work today, remember? Time to get up."

The man hardly dignified him with a response; he scoffed and closed his eyes, adjusting the pillow to lay completely over his face. Jack let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess you leave me no choice..."

Pitch let out an inhuman shriek, flailing his limbs when toes that felt more like small, round icicles than actual toes pressed into his the side of his calf. "You little- oh I am going to murder you!" he screamed, but jack simply latched himself on, curling both legs around Pitch's and pretended not to hear his threats - they were all empty, anyway. He was pretty sure he'd be dead at least three times over if they hadn't been.

When Pitch finally ceased his struggling and relaxed into Jack's hold with a frustrated huff, Jack slowly released his death-grip on his legs but made no move to get off of him. "Are you awake now?"

"They're going to find your body buried in the backyard."

"Oh please, we don't even have a backyard."

"It'll take months. They'll think it's just you being you, shirking your responsibilities and running off without a moments notice."

"Hey! I don't shirk all of my responsibilities. Only the really, really boring ones."

"And then they'll come asking questions after the first month, and I'll be completely oblivious. 'Why, I have no idea officer, Jack didn't tell me anything. Please, let me know if you find my dear, lost Jack'. And then, only months later, will they investigate our metaphorical backyard and find you buried beneath the garden you always tended to."

"Oh my god, where do you even dream this stuff up?" Jack mumbled to himself before rolling his eyes and pressing a quick kiss on Pitch's nose. "Alright, drama queen, time for you to shut up and get moving now."

"Are you sure? I was just about to describe all of the terrible ways I mutilated your body."

"Yes, because listening to you go on about all of the freaky things you'd do to my cold, dead corpse is definitely how I want to start the morning."

"Hmm yes, I'm glad we agree on something." Pitch grinned, running his fingers through Jack's fading white hair, and promptly pulled him into a kiss.

"Seriously though, I made coffee and it's getting cold." Jack said around his lips, poking him in the stomach repeatedly.

Pitch shoved him away with what seemed to be some sort of cross between a tired laugh and a groan, and pulled the blankets with him as he slowly but surely rose from the bed. Jack clapped his hands together, his smile broadening as he called out "He lives!"

Pitch rolled his eyes, snatching up the mug of coffee and mumbling a "piss off" around the brim before shuffling out into their living room, blankets and all.

Jack simply continued grinning as he followed the man out of the room, a slight jump in his step.

It was definitely going to be a fun morning.


End file.
